Yes, she must have been blushing to be so boldly toyed with. She’d be thankful for the blindfold now, so she wouldn’t have to look at their faces. And on an even deeper level, she must have realized now that her virgin life was about to come crashing down. At some point during that session, she would understand with some astonishment that her captors wanted her for sex and these moments with their hands and lips and the lovely but somewhat mocking sounds of the man’s voice were just the beginning.
“And that is enough,” Emerson finally announced to them all. He had to pull Penelope from her moment of blissful loving, and extricate Daphne’s fingers from the delicate, pink slit. Even Kathy Ann was reluctant to draw away. She breathed heavily with lips parted, her eyes curiously dreamy with desire. Emerson bent down. “That is all for now, my pet. You behave like a good girl, you’ll have more to enjoy.”
He sent the women upstairs, and had Zack and Bo return the pallet to the floor—a safety precaution.
“She’ll need this, I think,” he said, dragging the bucket he intended for a piss pot next to her bed.
Bo untied her feet, while Zack locked a collar round her neck and loosened the restraints on her hands, enough so she could use them.
“This is your toilet,” Emerson told her, drawing the girl’s hands to the round metal bucket. “Use it now.”
The girl had to think a moment to realize that she was no longer so extremely bound. Once she got her bearings, she moved quickly, crouching over the bucket, with the sound of her tinkling urine raining down against the metal. When she was finished, she fell back to the pallet, sitting on her bottom, her knees bent, and her bound hands falling between her legs, looking in some ways like a forlorn child.
“Now you want something to eat and drink, I imagine?” Emerson declared.
She nodded her head.
“That is fine with me, but if you want to eat and drink you must promise me you won’t scream for help when I remove the gag. That clear?”
She made no response.
“You could scream of course,” he went on, “but you’re locked in a cellar in the middle of nowhere. There’s no one around for miles but us. I’ll remove the gag, and in time, I might even keep it off. But even one plaintive cry from you for help and not only will the gag rarely leave your mouth, I will thrash your ass as punishment. Is that understood?”
She nodded then.
The gag had so strangely distorted Veronica X’s mouth that it was quite lovely seeing her lips as they were naturally formed, their fullness more evident and clearly pleasing. Emerson immediately noted their erotic quality, reminding himself that this simple feature was one of the things that had attracted him to the girl at Zen’s. He thought of how they’d be used, how they would kiss, what they would look like with his wife’s lips pressed against them, or with his wife’s cunt wet and hovering over them in preparation for the way they would suck her to an exuberant orgasm.
Moving on from this momentary reverie, he fed her a bowl of mashed cereal with protein powder and dried fruit. It probably didn’t taste too bad, but taste hadn’t been his aim. He needed to keep her nourished, and gave her just enough food to keep her healthy and able to perform as he desired. After she ate, she drank from a pan of water, lapping the liquid in the only way she could, like a thirsty beast. When she was finished, she sat back on her heels and waited.
“Good girl,” he said, encouragingly.
A new gag was fastened around her neck; this one was a rubber ball gag that should be easier on her mouth. Bo and Zack retied the ropes to secure her to the pallet, arms above her head and legs spread wide. Extinguishing the light, Emerson nodded for his friends to leave by flashlight. He would follow as soon as he heard their footsteps on the stairs. But before he left, in an impulsive move he had not planned, he untied the blindfold where it was knotted behind her head. This was a small kindness, but it wouldn’t mean much in the pitch black of the earthen cellar. The only light she’d be able to see was a small dim crack under the door that led to the stairs.
“We’ll see you again soon,” he said before he made his way in the inky darkness to the door and left Veronica X to the nothingness of her new existence.
***
“It’s a matter of training,” Emerson told them. “We start with sensory deprivation, punctuated by intense moments of physical pleasuring. We’ll do this for about a week, until Veronica is craving the hands that will in seconds arouse her to a sexual state of want. She’ll be so sensitized to her infrequent but astounding sessions of touch that she’ll start liquefying at the sound of our footsteps on stairs. It’s just that simple.” Emerson spoke as if he’d read all this from an instruction manual on the sexual manipulation of female captives.
“Sounds like the perfect torture,” Penelope noted dryly. “I like it.” She seemed more like herself now, less submissive, although without her previous bite. Her own journey to the dark had seen to that, and the effect had surprisingly stuck.
Emerson was pleased to see her enthusiasm since it helped keep Daphne and Kathy Ann in check. He went on, “In a week or so, she should be ready for more freedom. We’ll remove the twenty-four hour restraints, allow her to walk about the cell. But it’s imperative to keep our sessions tactile and sexually oriented. I want her craving and wildly excited, driven mad with need, until she finally asks for what she wants.”
“And that is?” Bo asked, in a rare comment.
“Her virginity taken, of course. It won’t be rape, I’ll see to that. I plan to have the whole thing filmed.”
“You think that’s wise?” Bo looked suspicious.
“Yes, I do. If we capture on film the picture of a woman begging for sex, wild with passion, cunt dripping, mouth hungering for cock, her body moving on us aggressively, it will be a bit of security just in case.”
“In case of what?” Bo asked. “You’re thinking we’ll get caught, aren’t you?”
“Good, God, no!”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure that’s not in your mind.”
“Well, certainly,” Emerson backed off slightly, “we have to be mindful of the possibilities. That’s why the film. Insurance. But it’s been my plan from the start, that Veronica X will be so hot with sexual fever, so eager and ever grateful for what we give her, that once she’s freed, there will be no question of her going to the authorities with some strange story of an abduction and rape. Trust me. It’s systematic and foolproof. One step at a time. We’ll reel her in.”
As Emerson spoke, Bo studied the man, just as he’d been studying Emerson for the last six years since the day of their first meeting. His mental files on his friend were brimming with untold observations, and so it was with a heightened kind curiosity that the entire room waited for his next comment. His reaction to Emerson’s stated mission started with a slow nodding of his head, his expression grim, then slowly his response evolved to a soft, knowing snicker. His eyes lit in an unusually dark way for Bo. “I wouldn’t have believed it, Emerson, if I hadn’t seen it,” he finally said, with the sound of awe in his voice, “but you know, I think it’s going to happen, just the way you describe.”
“Of course, it’s going to happen. Gets into the blood, doesn’t it?” Emerson was relieved to hear that Bo, of all people, put his stamp of approval on the plan.
“Oh, yeah,” Zack followed him. “She’ll take us all, that sweet little bitch, all at the same time; that’s the ultimate fantasy.”
While the three expounded on the rewards of their endeavor, the three women were equally engaged in their own thoughts about Veronica X, although noticibly less vocal. Penelope mused about what taking the virgin would mean to her, while Kathy fumed apparently not as resigned as the rest. Daphne was silent and remote for a long time. Emerson noticed right off the two women quietly brooding. They were an issue to be handled.
When the conversation dwindled for a time, he suddenly turned to Kathy Ann. “So, what’s going on in that head of yours, Kathy?” The comment wa
s intended to cut right through her sour mood, and she practically jumped from her chair at the sound of her name.
“It just troubles me, Emerson,” she stated flatly. She looked around at the others. “Don’t any of you think it’s strange that we’re here jovially discussing the abuse of a woman who’s now tied in the basement? Isn’t that the least bit bizarre?”
“Of course, it’s bizarre,” Emerson said. “It is supposed to be. It’s art; it reflects life. It’s true to our desires, which makes it a true and honest act to illustrate our personal revolution.”
“You’re twisting logic, Emerson.” Kathy’s face contorted defiantly.
“Sure. You can call it that, but is it any different than the twisted logic of our government, our politicians, our priests, our ministers, the fine educators who stick whatever facts may suit the tenor of the times into young brains and call it education? Everything is twisted. Truth, morality are relative to the situation. Right now, thousands of good boys have been pulled from their homes, guns shoved into their hands. They are marched off to war, to fight for what? What truth, what morality do they represent? Huh? Don’t go giving me some stupid line about morality, Kathy Ann. The truth about you is, you wish it were you down here.” He pointed to toward the basement for emphasis.
“That’s bullshit, Emerson!” she spat out.
“Is it really? I don’t think so. I think that’s the whole point of your objections.” His mouth twisted into a surly grin. “You know, a long night in the cellar can be arranged for you. How would that be? Huh? We all know that if Zack wanted to put you there, you’d do it in a heartbeat.”
She pursed her lips.
“Your problem is that you’re suddenly not the center of attention anymore. You want it to be you down there. You don’t care about Veronica, you care only that Zack is paying more attention to the girl downstairs than he’s paying to you. Well, you’d better get used to it, because you’re in this for the long haul, just like everyone else.”
“Stop it, Emerson!” she said tersely. “It is about the rightness of what we do.”
“No, I won’t stop,” he shot out curtly. “And it’s not about the rightness at all. It’s about Kathy Ann feeling left out again.”
She turned toward Zack. “Please make him stop.”
“Why make him stop, luv. Hum?” Zack returned. “You’re acting pretty bratty for a girl who was having a hell of a good time a few minutes ago.”
“Zack…”
“I saw you. We all saw you. And I don’t like it when you lie.”
“Sweetie, please, you can’t…”
“Can’t what? Be serious about Veronica X? I’m damned serious about the girl. I have to be. We all have to be, because like Emerson said, we’re in this for the long haul. He’s right about you, you know.” He got up and walked toward her, reached down, took her hand and pulled her up. “You wanna be the little princess too. Right?”
Everyone could feel Kathy Ann’s energy swell as she reacted to the sound of Zack’s hard words by turning to putty in his cruel hands. She stood motionless, while his arm moved around her torso, his fingers finding her behind and grabbing her cheeks in his hands. She no doubt expected something sexual, but he started to spank her and spank her hard. When the position became too awkward to spank her as hard as he desired, he turned her over his left arm, so he could whack her rear firmly with his open palm. Soon, even that was not enough, so he raised her dress to have her ass naked. Her bare bottom turned from pink to red as one rough smack followed after the one before in a cadence suffused with righteous indignation.
Kathy Ann’s initially responded, twisting fitfully. Although she voiced her objections, they were quickly supplanted by the sounds of her undeniable arousal. Each smack heightened the erotic sensation tearing through her body.
Zack, as equally roused, tore her sundress off over her head, exposing her naked body underneath. She was hot, perspiring, quivering close to cumming as the spanking went on and on and on.
“Oh, oh oh oh…” she panted loudly, as she came close to crashing through the pain and discovering the pleasure on the other side.
But that was at that point Zack chose to stop.
“You’re ready, aren’t you?” he asked as if it were an accusation.
“Oh yes, Zack, darling, please I am,” she replied, pleading.
“Well, you’re not going to come now, you’re gonna wait for what you get.” He drew her upright and looked her in the eye. “I thought you got the picture on the beach, Kathy, but since that didn’t stick with you, I’m going to show you what a slut you are. You think there’s just not enough attention being paid to you… well, guess what? You can spend the next few hours in bondage, just like our Veronica downstairs.” He was mad now, whipped to a frenzy. “Ropes, Emerson.”
He pushed her in front of him through the porch door to the nearest large tree where she was bound face forward. Her mouth was gagged with Penelope’s panties, relinquished at Zack’s request, and her eyes were blindfolded with his t-shirt crudely tied around her head.
“Hope you’re happy now,” he said as he gave her pink fanny one last whack and walked away.
Even Emerson couldn’t top this show of dominance—this was why he admired Zack so. Fitting, he thought. Having now dispensed with the vapid woman at least for now, Emerson turned his attention to his wife.
“So, dear, everyone here has weighed in on the issue of Veronica X but you. You want to tell me what’s been going through your petulant brain?”
“How can you be so sure it’s petulant, Emerson?” Daphne answered him. She spoke evenly, sounding strangely rational when the mood of her friends seemed particularly on edge—for good reason.
“I’m your husband, Daph. I know your moods. You want to be strung up to a tree like Kathy Ann?”
“It has its benefits,” she continued in the same detached manner.
“Yeah, and that would be perfect for you. Hide your feelings against a tree. Go inside yourself and be as happy as one of those anonymous bugs climbing through the tree bark.” He stopped and looked at her, his temper obviously rising. “Back to my question, Daphne. What’s going on for you?”
“Aren’t I doing what I’m told?” She tried again to placate the man with a reasoned reply, but he hated her passive tone.
He looked at her oddly. “What’s going on, Daphne?”
“Nothing. Honestly, Emerson. Really. I swear.”
“Mind if I don’t believe you?” His agitation seemed at the boiling point. Hot. Rugged. Tempestuous. Frightening for Daphne who knew what his temper could do. And yet, she hadn’t the will to stop herself for running right into his trap. She knew how to stop him. All she had to do was tell him that she wasn’t feeling well and he’d back off. But at the moment, the piece of her that needed this confrontation with her husband was in charge; the two were destined to clash and clash aggressively. In her hesitation, she’d stepped over the line and there was no retreating now no matter what excuse she gave.
When Emerson’s blue eyes turned steel gray, it was the signal that his passions were on fire. Even from six feet away, Daphne could feel the throbbing of his cock inside her hand, against her thigh, between her legs. And more than that, she could read his thoughts enough to know where they led. She knew what he wanted to do with her, and how he would choose to end this insignificant quarrel. She waited for it, expecting it, finding an eroticism about it that she craved to complete.
“Excuse me,” Emerson said, making his move. “If you don’t mind, my wife needs to be attended to in private. Since the cellar is already in use, I think we’ll use the shed.”
“Be my guest,” Zack said. He didn’t smile, but there was a look of sadistic satisfaction on his face.
Bo and Penelope just nodded, as they felt the energy between the couple pour out all around them. It was distinctly sexual, fanatic, explosive, even dictatorial on Emerson’s part and, in equal measure, erotically acquiescent on Daphne’s.
>
This script had been written in advance.
***
“Something in you just begs to be beaten, doesn’t it?” Emerson faced off with his wife inside the creaky confines of the shed, lording a husbandly power over Daphne that reeked with Old World attitudes of male-female relationships.
“Yes, I’m beginning to think so,” she answered, her head bowed.
“What is it? You need your defiance whipped from you?”
“Maybe.” She bit her lip and shrugged. She may have looked calm, but the passive exterior defied the teaming goings-on that had her belly aching and her crotch hot.
Emerson didn’t like her vague replies. “Have I somehow offended you?” he wondered.
“Well, it’s possible that the girl, Veronica, offends me,” Daphne managed to say.
“Really? Have you not heard a thing I’ve said?” he wondered. “I’ve given adequate explanations, you should be satisfied.”
She remained motionless.
“I didn’t see you running away from teasing the girl’s cunt. I didn’t even ask you to do that.”
“I know. I was glad to do it for both of us,” she said.
“But somehow you found it morally reprehensible. Right?”
“No, no…how could I find that any more reprehensible than what’s already happened? I guess I’m just confused, Emerson. I’m sorry.”
He nodded. Daphne was easily confused, battered by her own brain that was so easily swayed, that took every side and every point of view, but found it so difficult to settle on her own opinions. “You’re my wife, and you need to be one with me on this. If you can’t be, Daphne, then we can’t play at marriage very well, can we?”
“I suppose not.”
“Is that what you want to do, end it?”
“No!” she practically shrieked. “I love you, Emerson. I honestly don’t know why sometimes, you stretch my thinking so, but I’d – I’d be so lost without you.”
“Well, then what you have to do, Daphne, if forget about your doubts and your inhibitions and stay with the sexual fervor that drives you, because that is your primary motivation, whether you want to deny it or not. You’ll take your lust into the cellar with me, climb on that girl and make her into the slut she is. All that clear?”
The Abduction of Veronica X Page 7